


Bring on 2021

by corneroffandom



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Impact Wrestling | Total Nonstop Action Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment, 新日本プロレス | New Japan Pro-Wrestling
Genre: F/F, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:15:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corneroffandom/pseuds/corneroffandom
Summary: How various wrestlers ring in the New Year.
Relationships: Aiden English/Alexander Rusev, Aleister Black | Tommy End/Velveteen Dream, Alexa Bliss/Mickie James, Angélico/Matt Cross | Son of Havoc/Ivelisse Vélez, Ariya Daivari/Drew Gulak, Ashley Remington | Dalton Castle/Brandon Tate/Brent Tate, Carmella/James Ellsworth, Chad Gable/Jason Jordan, Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley/Seth Rollins | Tyler Black, Enzo Amore/Colin Cassady, Ethan Carter III | Derrick Bateman/Rockstar Spud, Jeff Hardy/Elias Samson, Lana/Tamina Snuka, Mike Bennett/Matt Taven, Nakamura Shinsuke/Okada Kazuchika, Pac | Adrian Neville/T. J. Perkins | Manik, Pete Dunne/Ricochet | Prince Puma, Robbie E/DJ Zema Ion, Santos Escobar/Raul Mendoza, Shane McMahon/A.J. Styles, Tommaso Ciampa/Johnny Gargano, Wade Barrett/Heath Slater, Zack Ryder/Dolph Ziggler
Kudos: 7





	Bring on 2021

**ECSPud**

It's quiet. The lull between Christmas Day and New Years Day. When things become murky and confusing, people thrown off of their equilibrium with two holidays in such a short amount of time. Drake sighs, rocking back and forth on his heels as he stares up at the night sky, enjoying the brisk wind dancing over his collar as he tugs at the pockets of his jacket.

He senses more than hears the presence behind him so he only twitches a little when Ethan finally speaks. "What're you doing out here, Drake?" Ethan's warmth presses against Drake's side and he hums, closing his eyes as he leans into it.

"Guess I just needed a minute," he whispers, casting a glance over and up at him. "You alright?"

"Yep." Ethan's hand creeps under his shirt as he draws him closer, possessive grip on his hip leaving Drake flushing softly under the moonlight. "Just missed you."

"Sorry. I'll be back in in a few minutes."

"No rush," Ethan tells him, seemingly content to stand right here, by Drake's side, doing little more than staring up at the night sky, watching the few stars they can see twinkle in and out overhead.

His fingers rub slowly against Drake's side and Drake closes his eyes, trying not to completely lose it. "This coming year will be better, right?" he whispers out into the darkness and Ethan's fingers still for a moment before tugging Drake around to stand face to face with him.

Ethan sighs, searching Drake's tired, fretful blue eyes, and he smiles a little, cradling Drake's face in his free hand, the other having shifted to hold onto his other hip. "Yes," he says softly. "It has to be. If not, we'll do our best to _make_ it better."

Drake nods, tears filling his eyes for only a moment before Ethan leans in and kisses him, drawing him out of his own heavy thoughts, and towards something sweeter, reminding him of everything good that's still ahead. "Thank you sir," he whispers, leaning forward to hug him and burying his face in Ethan's neck. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tiger," he murmurs, carding his fingers through Drake's soft hair. "Always."

**Seth/Mox**

Seth lifts his head curiously, watching Mox as he packs. "So," he says, nudging at his ankle with socked feet.

"So," he echoes.

"Saturday?" Seth asks, apropos of nothing, expecting it to make sense to the other man, like a full sentence with information and expectations, and...

Mox pulls his furrowed brow away from his duffel bag and looks up at Seth. Examines his body, from the thick socks covering his feet, to the grey sweatpants and Black & Blue hoodie shielding his legs and chest from the Iowa chill. "Saturday," he confirms, enjoying how Seth looks, comfortable and warm. As good as he looks in wrestling gear and... less, there's something oddly intimate in this moment that leaves Mox _almost_ willing to sit and just enjoy the time, but he's needed at AEW soon, and there's no really opportunity for domestic relaxation with Seth. Unfortunately.

Seth understands, though. Will be heading out himself in a day or two to return to his own career, after spending the last few weeks trying to figure out a life post-Buddy's betrayal. He smiles at Mox and reaches out, resting a hand on his wrist, stilling his anxious movements for a second. "I'm looking forward to it then," he says softly, and Mox's eyes soften as he looks up at him once more.

"Me too," he says quietly, turning his hand over to lace their fingers together in a quick squeeze. "Me too." Leave the stress and sadness behind, return home to watch Smackdown and get the house together to welcome back Seth early Saturday and watch movies and spend the first full day of the New Year with this infuriating, beautiful man before him.

It's all he wants right now, the main thing holding him together.

**ZigZack**

Dolph grimaces as he rests his hands on his hips and looks up at the tree, tilting his head. His least favorite part of the holidays- decorating, and then taking everything back down to wait for the next year. At least, he thinks, he's not alone. Casts a glance over to his left and watches Zack shake his head in disbelief. "I told you three cats and one tree would never work that well."

The ornaments had just survived, and they were careful to keep things out of the cat's paws whenever they could, but still, it's clear the tree's been through the winger, spots bare, some pine needles littering the floor at their feet from some rampage or another against it. "I know," he mutters. "They're lucky they're cute."

Dolph _almost_ feels like debating that, but he bites his tongue as Zack moves, once more, to vacuum the floor up, rolling his eyes as he nudges another lunging cat away from the tall monstrosity in their space. "Good God," he mutters, reaching down and scooping up the offending creature. "You, sir, are coming with me." He ignores the cat's protests and expertly avoidso its claws and teeth, settling it into the bedroom and closing the door firmly before it can get loose yet again. "All good?" he asks, returning to the living room to find Zack sitting on the floor, a small smile on his face. "Kid?"

"Yeah," he says softly. "Everything's fine." He casts an almost shy glance up at Dolph, who just looks even more confused. "C'mere, bro."

Dolph picks over to him and sits down once he's sure there's a clear spot for him to do so. As soon as he's down, he sees what has Zack's attention- the first Christmas ornament they'd bought together as a married couple, a simple Mickey Mouse shaped bit of ceramic with silver wisps swirling around his body, probably hinting at some sort of magic or what have you. "Oh yeah," Dolph says, resting his head on Zack's shoulder and peering up at it. "You looked so happy when we bought that," he whimpers, remembering the moment all too clearly.

Zack clears his throat and glances down at him, nudging him gently. "You were pretty pleased, yourself, bro. At least I thought you were."

Dolph immediately sits up and cradles Zack's face, searching his eyes for the vague doubt he'd heard in his voice. "Of course I was pleased. I was with my hot new husband and we were buying our first _thing_ as a married couple. Who wouldn't be thrilled in that circumstance?" He strokes Zack's cheek, watching as a grin slowly crowds away the uncertainty in his eyes. "It still leaves me warm and fuzzy to think back on." He winks and Zack rolls his eyes, swats at him, but looks happier than before, so Dolph doesn't fuss about it, just draws him closer and kisses him deeply. "I love you, kid."

"I love you too," Zack hums against his mouth.

Dolph checks the clock and sighs, shaking his head. "Come on, I want to get this tree down before it's midnight," he teases him, reluctantly pulling away. Zack holds on, however, draws him back in. "Kid?"

"Preview for tonight," he says, kissing him again, his hand sprawling over Dolph's back, between his shoulderblades, holding him in place.

Dolph gapes when he suddenly breaks the kiss, ducks back and begins clearing up the tree remnants. _Oh, you are absolutely paying for that later,_ he thinks, eyes dark with deviousness as he quietly gets to work, lost in thought about payback.

**Slarrett**

"How are you feeling?" Wade asks, leaning in to drop a quick kiss to the top of Heath's head as he settles down on the couch next to him, content to sit and watch the TV flickering across from them, the countdown to midnight close to fifteen minutes away.

"Alright," he says, exhaling slowly as he shifts, allowing the ice pack along his lower stomach to adjust. "Sucks, but it could be worse."

Wade nods, reaching over to gently stroke his neck. "I imagine you're disappointed we won't be able to dance this year," he teases him quietly and Heath rolls his eyes at him.

"I'm sure you're thrilled about it," he grumbles.

Wade hums, considering it. "Not really. I've grown to enjoy dancing with you. Especially now that you've gotten better at _not_ stomping my feet every rotation."

Heath blushes a little, picks at his sleeve. "Yeah, I enjoy dancin' with you too," he admits. "If I wasn't still sorta achy, I'd totally drag you up onto the floor and spin you all around."

"We'll do it soon as you get cleared to wrestle again," Wade offers and Heath tilts his head at him.

"Ya promise?" he asks.

"I promise," Wade says, reaching an arm out and smiling when Heath gingerly shifts over to rest his head on his shoulder. Curling his arm around the man, he hugs him close and turns his attention back to the TV before them. They wait and watch as the countdown shifts, the people shown counting down from ten as midnight approaches. Once they finish, fireworks begin and Wade turns to look at Heath, a simple kind of adoration in his eyes. "Happy New Year, ginger," he murmurs.

Heath nods, thumb stroking against Wade's chin as he searches his expression, smile warming up hsi own features. "To the both of us," he says, leaning in and claiming Wade's lips in a slow, deep kiss that lingers, draws out long enough that it makes them both miss the fireworks glinting outside of their window.

Neither mind, though.

**Cassamore**

"This is weird," Enzo mumbles, curling up in a blanket as they stand on their apartment balcony and shuffle around, trying to avoid the chilly wind.

"It is," Cass agrees, reaching out to wrap an arm around him, dragging him into his warmth. "Better?"

"Always." He presses his face into Cass' chest and just stands there a minute, breathing him in. "Ain't done this in awhile." They usually go into the city, find _something_ to do on New Years Eve, but with everything _fun_ shut down, had decided to remain here, hanging out in the dark and cold, waiting for fireworks to light up the sky to prove the turning of the calendar from one year to the next.

"Right?" Cass sounds fond, pleased with what they've done, and Enzo chances a glance up at him, smiling slightly at the gleam in his dark blue eyes.

He chuckles, sneaks his hand under Cass' shirt and tickles him. "Happy with yourself, ain't ya?" Enzo had suggested other stuff, but when he woke up, hadn't felt like doing any of them considering, and had given in to Cass' request. So now here they stand.

Cass' grin grows. "Actually," he hums. "I am." He curls his fingers around Enzo's jaw and eases his face up to smile down at him. "Always glad for a quiet moment alone with you, 'Zo."

Enzo gapes up at him. Blinks hard a few times. "Aw, man, Cass, ya really know how to make a guy blush." He buries his face back into Cass' sternum, feeling his ribs expand as he chuckles. "I love ya," He mumbles, rubbing his nose against the soft tank top a couple of times.

"Hmm?" Cass murmurs back and Enzo realizes he probably wasn't very audible in that moment, pulling back and looking up to once more meet Cass' eyes.

"I love ya." He smiles, wide and full of affection for the man before him. "Always have, always will, big man."

Cass' grin is bright and wide and could outshine the moon any day. "I love you too, 'Zo," he says softly, tenderly. Leans in and slowly, gently kisses him.

Waiting for fireworks on this old, chilly balcony suddenly seems like the best way to spend his last few hours of this annoying year.

**TJN**

"Oh come _on!_ " TJ exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation as once more his video game screen flashes _FAILED MISSION_ at him. "Ugh! Why is everyone cheating tonight?"

"Maybe the problem isn't that," Neville says dryly from where he's propped up in a nearby chair, reading quietly while TJ slowly loses his mind. "Maybe you just are bad at these games."

TJ's eyes flash. "I am not!" he gasps, scandalized. "You take that back."

Neville snorts softly and glances over at him. "I will never denounce what is spoken as truth."

TJ sputters. "Geez, man. Sometimes I wonder why I love you." But his eyes are soft as he says it and even Neville can't fight the small smile that creeps onto his face at the simply stated words.

"Because otherwise you'd have to kiss your pigs on New Years, and no one wants to see that for you," Neville teases.

TJ gasps. "I'll have you know, Princess is a very delicate, sweet kisser when she wants to be."

Neville rolls his eyes and finally gives up on getting much further with his book, setting it aside and getting up to join TJ on the couch. "You are a very strange man sometimes, Teddy," he says, brushing aside the controllers and everything else to get closer to his significant other.

"Guess that's why we work as well as we do," TJ murmurs, leaning into his warmth.

"Suppose so," Neville hums, leaning in to press his forehead to TJ's. They sit for a few moments, simply staring at each other, intensity and warmth in their gazes, and finally Neville tilts his face and TJ mirrors him, the two of them sighing softly when they kiss, slowly, gently, building up to more with an ease that neither thought they could ever feel with anyone their whole lives, much less each other when they united all of those years prior to fight Austin Aries, and then the wrestling world as a whole when both were tossed aside and all but forgotten about.

"I love you," TJ mumbles into the kiss and Neville grins against his lips, sharp and almost feral as he pushes TJ onto the couch and hovers over him, searching his eyes hungrily.

"I love you too, Teddy."

**Dalton/Boys**

Dalton sighs. His back is a mess of knots after two competitive matches held in short order, one he'd lost against Rey Horus at Final Battle, and one he'd won for TV. Neither really weigh on him, considering how things have been going, a couple of matches here and there are important, but not as much as, say, quarantining and keeping everyone on his island safe, and everything else. Which is fine, but it makes for boring, slow afternoons where all he can do is lurk around this guest house and peek out at his Boys frolicking around in the waves just visible from the kitchen window.

He limps away from the room once his Boys slink out of sight and he leans against the wall, tapping his fingers against his arm. He still has a couple of days just to make sure, to wait out the two weeks, and it's annoying, having to spend both holidays like this, but he knows its importance. Still... He digs his knuckles into his eyes and stares up at the soft sunshine gleaming off of the ceiling. He jerks a little when there's a sudden knock, his eyes shifting to rest on the door directly in front of him. "Yes?"

"Hey, Dalton." Brent's voice lilts gently against his ear, muffled through the door.

He smiles and creeps forward a little closer, resting his hand on the door. "Hey, Brent. Is, is Brandon-"

"Hi, Dalton," Brandon speaks up and Dalton exhales softly, yearning to see them, but staying his hand. "We just wanted to check in. It, uh, it's New Years Eve after all. And we miss you."

His heart aches with that sincere, almost halting comment from his Boy, but he can't help the wistful smile tilting at his lips. "I miss you both too, my sweet Boys," he says, trying to sound happier than he feels. "But it's only a couple more days, and then I can rejoin you and we can properly ring in the new year!"

"Yeah," his Boys echo and Dalton leans his forehead against the door, imagining his Boys' eyes, dark and fixed, full of love and mischief. "We can't wait," Brent adds and Dalton chuckles softly.

"I can't either," he says. "But stop wasting time over here, go and enjoy the sun and surf for me, huh?"

Both Boys pause, then there's a soft shuffling sound. "Ok," Brandon says slowly. "I guess we can do that. Dalton, there's a gift by the door for you. Once we're gone, come get it. Ok?"

"Alright," he says softly, warmth twisting around his insides. He waits to hear the Boys walk off and then he gingerly eases the door open before peeking out. They're standing down the walk path and they pause to wave at him, he smiles sadly at them and waves back, blowing them a kiss.

Brent makes a show of snagging it out of thin air and both of them giggle and lean in towards it, like this invisible force is something truly to be awed over.

Dalton smiles and hoists the box up before taking it inside after one more, lingering look back at the Boys who so thoroughly changed his life to the better. Sighing, he shuts the door and heads slowly into the bedroom, wanting just to sleep away the next few days so he can hold his Boys, give them their first (proper) kisses of the New Year.

Curious, he picks at the box, eventually tugging it free of the glue binding it, and peers inside. _Lay on this and imagine it's us,_ Brent's handwriting greets him on a note atop everything else in the box. He peers inside and lets out a soft, sad little laugh when he finds a portable back massager waiting inside for him. "My sweet, thoughtful Boys," he coos, taking just a minute to hold it, thinking about just how very lucky he is. "I don't know what I did to deserve you both, but I swear, once I get out of here, we'll make up for all of this lost time."

He strokes his thumb over the device and grins, ideas and plans already formulating in his very creative mind.

**Carmellsworth**

Carmella sighs, sipping from a glass of champagne while James sits at her feet on the floor, shaking his head slowly every few minutes. "What is it?" she finally asks, nudging his back with her bare toes, tired of being ignored.

He blinks and looks over at her, face tensing all over again. "How long is he going to be around?" he finally mumbles, hitching a thumb over to her sommelier.

Carmella blinks at him a couple of times, eyes wide, before glancing over too, a small smile crossing her face. "Oh, Reggie," she calls out sweetly, turning her gaze back onto James, a devious look on her face that makes him swallow heavily.

"Yes, madam?" the man asks, standing at attention by her side, ready to fulfill all of her champagne needs. James glowers as soon as he gets near, but Reginald fails to notice, his attention only on Carmella.

She giggles and wiggles her fingers, batting her eyes innocently up at him. "You've been such a dear the last few weeks, I'm going to give you the night off. Go, enjoy the holiday, you've earned it! I'll still pay you your full rate, no worries."

He looks surprised at this, expecting hours more of standing by the table full of champagne bottles, waiting to pour for her at midnight. "Are you sure, madam?"

She beams at him. "I am. Thank you so much for coming here and setting up that lovely table for us! Tata now." She waves him off and he quickly turns to take his leave, clearly not going to question her twice.

James still sits there, flabbergasted at her and what just happened. She nudges him again with her foot and he looks up at her.

"Are you happy now?" she wonders, looking disturbingly pleased with herself as she lounges, sips some more, and then sighs impatiently. "James, he's gone, _please_ get up here now."

Scrambling, James does just that. "Thank you," he mumbles against her skin, kissing her throat.

She sighs and curls her fingers in his hair. "Darling, all you had to do was ask," she murmurs. "I'd do anything for you, don't you know that?"

Sometimes, he thinks he does. Instead of vocalizing that bit of doubtful admittance, he leans in and kisses her. "Happy New Year, Carmella."

She beams, dangling her arms over his shoulder, her mostly empty glass pressing cool against his skin. "Happy New Year, Jimmy."

**DJR**

Joaquin hums, messing around with his audio system. Between COVID restrictions and everything going on with Escobar, he hasn't had a lot of time to mix music or do much of anything with his deejaying, but it's New Years, and he has the urge to sit and just _create,_ find new rhythms to flow from his fingers, make people wanna dance and yell and just let loose of all of their inhibitions.

He's so lost in finding the right flow that he doesn't hear the door open behind him, or close quietly as footsteps approach where he's sitting. He does, however, feel when something warm and solid settles in behind him, his back pressing back into it. He smiles but continues ignoring it, his fingers still dancing over the keys that bring more and more music to life.

Robert huffs and squeezes him with his knees, Joaquin fighting the grin spreading over his face. He holds strong until Robert wraps his arms around him and drags him back, away from the synthesizer. "Joaquin," he says testily.

"Robert," Joaquin says back with a smirk.

"Why are you ignoring me?" he wonders, pressing his hand down the front of Joaquin's tank top.

"Who said I was?" Joaquin mumbles, ab muscles trembling as Robert's fingers stroke over them. "Robert-" He gasps and tilts his head back, eyes dark and focused as he searches Robert's face. "Yo- you're that jealous of me paying attention to my music for a little bit, huh?"

"Yes," Robert tells him, hand still inching lower along Joaquin's stomach. "It's New Years, you should pay attention to me."

"I will," he promises, pressing a couple fingers to Robert's jaw. "Trust me. I'm just tryin' to work out some music so..." He digs his teeth into his lower lip and shoots Robert another glare at his exploring hand. "So we can..." He hisses, struggling to focus. "So I can dance with you later," he finally manages.

Robert's fingers still and Joaquin doesn't seem happy about that either. "You want to dance with me tonight?"

"I always wanna dance with you," Joaquin sighs, relieved when Robert leans in to kiss him, his hands sliding back to less distracting places. "Now can I finish this song?"

"Yes, please," Robert says, kissing him again before allowing him to sit up straight and bring his synthesizer back into position.

Later, when they're slow dancing in front of the window, fireworks flashing down upon them, Robert knows the wait was well worth it.

**DIY**

It's been a long, hard year. But the last few weeks have been fun, dragging Austin and Indi into their madness. Johnny whistles under his breath, swirling a keyring over his fingers, about to leave the Performance Center after some brutal training to knock some uncertainty in the ring away. One doesn't get over losing to someone like Leon Ruff that easily, or quickly, after all.

Something attracts his attention, however, and he realizes he's not the only person left in the center this close to midnight 2021. Curious, he follows the faint noises and looks around the corner to find Tommaso standing in front of a bag, that familiar glint in his deep, blue eyes. Gargano holds his breath and waits, watching as Ciampa strikes out, cool, calculated, focused. The bag quivers with each blow, swaying slightly as Ciampa begins to hit faster, harder, grunting with each bit of exersion.

He only stops when Johnny steps wrong and scuffs his boot against the padding, Ciampa immediately stopping and looking into the shadows. "Who's there?" he snaps, the tension not leaving the lines of his face even when Johnny steps out into the light. "Oh, you." He ignores him from there, beginning to attack the punching bag anew. Probably imagining that it's Johnny's face.

Johnny stands and watches him, always just a bit in awe of how he fights, despite the myriad of surgeries he's gone through just in the last three years. His fighting is crisp, he has full control of his body, graceful in a totally boneshattering sort of way. It's always interesting to watch. But sometimes even Johnny wants to do more than just witness Ciampa's mind at work, so he speaks. "Tommaso," he calls out, his voice echoing bizarrely against the windows.

"Yeah?" Tommaso sighs, still keeping his focus on the bag before him even as he waits for Johnny to finish saying whatever's on his mind at this late hour.

"You doing anything special this year?" It's a loaded question, Johnny knows Tommaso doesn't like New Years- probably even less now that the three of them won't be spending it together- but he wants to know anyway.

"Nope," Ciampa says simply, not bothering even now to turn to look at his former best friend. "You?" he asks dismissively after a few moments of silence.

"Hanging around the apartment, watching sports or whatever else comes on," Johnny says with a shrug.

"We're both just the life of the party, huh," Tommaso mumbles sarcastically, his lips twitching up into a vague smile a moment later.

It throws Johnny. He stares at it and remembers better times, simpler times. "We have space at the table," he says suddenly. "If you want... I mean, if you wanna come over. Tomorrow. Or something. Whatever." This is suddenly sounding like an open invitation, for whenever, not just tomorrow, and Johnny bites his lip hard to keep him from saying anything else.

Ciampa eases away from the bag and looks over at him, intense, searching. "You sure about that?" he says finally.

"Yeah," Johnny breathes out.

"Candice doesn't still have that damn cup on the kitchen table, does she?" Ciampa mumbles and a shocked warmth ghosts up Johnny's veins at the realization that Ciampa still _watches_ their dumb, domestic little segments.

"N, no, she does not," Johnny says.

Ciampa hums. Grazes his knuckles over the bag, then swings out with such force that the thing twists and tangles over the ropes tying it to the ceiling. Ciampa steps away, peels his boxing gloves off, and moves to walk past Johnny. He hesitates when they're shoulder to shoulder and shrugs. "See you tomorrow. Maybe."

Then he's gone and Johnny exhales shakily. Smiles faintly, before turning to leave as well.

**Okada/Nakamura**

Florida is warm. Windy. There isn't a lot of overtly festive things here, except for the music and the decorations. By weather alone, you'd never know you were in between Christmas and New Years. It has taken Shinsuke years to get used to this, to not have to prepare for Wrestle Kingdom or New Years Dash while enjoying what he can of the holidays. He hums, settled on the balcony of his apartment and squints out into the setting sun.

He tilts his head and listens absently as his phone rings, trying to vibrate itself off of the table next to him. Finally reaching over and collecting it, he smiles when he sees Okada's name flashing at him. "Moshimoshi," he murmurs under his breath as he accepts the video call.

"Hello," Okada greets him with a slow smile. "How are you? It is not too late, is it?" Since Shinsuke had moved, Okada attempts to speak more English to him so he can settle into the strange speech patterns. Sometimes he thinks it helps, sometimes it makes it worse because he misses Okada speaking their home language to him.

"No, no, time is fine," he says. "I am well, yourself?"

"Fine," he responds quietly. "Better now." He too has been going through a lot, but Shinsuke looks forward to seeing him defeat Ospreay.

"I as well," Shinsuke says after a few moments of simply watching Okada, seeing the myriad of emotions play across his expressive face. "Are you alone?"

"Chaos is around," he says slowly, glancing around. "For now though, yes. I asked for time to talk to you in private."

Shinsuke smiles at this. "I do not like you being alone, especially on a holiday," he tells him.

"I'm not alone, I have you," he says, rolling his eyes petulantly.

Shinsuke sighs. "You know what I mean, Kazu."

"Hai, I do," he finally admits. "The others can wait, however. We don't get to talk often enough."

"True," Shinsuke sighs. "Alright, for a few minutes longer." He makes a face when Okada grins at the screen. "Tell me all about the holidays in Japan this year." As he settles in, Okada's voice washing over him as he describes the decorations, and the shops, and everything that had gone on throughout the holiday season, Shinsuke smiles at his screen, relaxed and pleased to have this time to just sit and listen to Okada talk.

It truly is the best way to start off his New Year.

**Alpha**

Jason sits lazily against the headboard, stroking his fingers through Chad's hair. They're watching the sun set through the window, neither eager to get up and move. After Smackdown finished taping for the week, they'd made their way home as quickly as they could, and neither have moved since, content just to lay in bed, cuddle, _maybe_ check their phones quickly if they get antsy enough, but neither go far from the other, and Jason thinks maybe this is the best New Years he's had in a long time, if ever.

Pressing a kiss to Chad's shoulder, he murmurs, "Maybe we should make this an annual tradition. Just stay in bed and spend time together."

"I'd like that," Chad says with a grin. "You won't get bored of me though?"

Jason makes a horrified noise and shakes his head. "Never, ever. I think it's impossible."

"Hm," Chad mutters, bracing his hands on the bed and pulling himself up before leaning in to kiss Jason. "Good, that's the kind of answer I want whenever I ask those sorts of things." He's teasing, of course he is, the glint in his eyes is just shy of devilish, and Jason rolls his eyes, digging his hand into his collar and drawing him closer, kissing him.

Chad sighs happily and returns his affections, thought processes growing hazy and distracted as Jason tangles their fingers together and pins Chad's hands to the bedding next to his sides. _Happy New Year to me,_ he can't help but think as he pulls away just long enough to look Jason over, lunging in for another slow, deep kiss that almost always takes his breath away.

**McStyles**

"So," AJ drawls, watching Shane look over something on his laptop. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Huh? Oh." Taking his glasses off and setting them to the side, Shane looks up at AJ with a small smile. "My dad sent out a business wide email regarding future shows. I was just looking it over."

AJ hums. "Anythin' I should know about?"

"Ah, ya know." Shane beckons him closer, shutting his laptop and putting it aside. "Just the usual- Royal Rumble, Wrestlemania, a couple of shows in between."

AJ settles in next to him, fingers stroking through the hair at the nape of Shane's neck. "Oh, yeah? Just a couple? Sounds like I'm gonna have plenty of free time this Mania season."

"Maybe," Shane hedges. "I mean, at least we know what to expect this year, and it won't just change on a dime like last year." The _hopefully_ remains unsaid, but AJ can see the emotions in his significant other's eyes.

"Yeah, no kiddin'," AJ sighs, shaking his head as he remembers how last year had gone, so suddenly just shifting right under all of their feet. "Ah well, it'll work out, no matter what happens. Always does." After all, he'd been buried alive just a few weeks after Wrestlemania plans had had to change. He grins ruefully, remembering that, how it'd felt. Surviving to live to talk about it. "Been a hell of a year, huh?"

"Yeah," Shane mumbles, reaching out to brush some hair out of AJ's eyes. "Glad it's behind us, personally." He pauses and thinks about it. "Though I have appreciated getting to spend more time with you the last few months."

"Me too," AJ says, smirking slightly. The match with Undertaker had shifted things between them, made it all feel so much more _vital_ between them, left Shane disinterested in continuing on the way they'd been, making it all more _permanent._ Sometimes, AJ thinks he owes Undertaker for that, sometimes he just wants to forget it ever happened at all, especially when he thinks about the terror in Shane's eyes when AJ was finally unearthed thanks to the same machine that had bured him. "Have I ever thanked ya for all of that?" AJ mumbles, leaning in to press a kiss to Shane's shoulder.

"A couple of times, I think, yes," Shane murmurs back. "But always nice to hear again."

AJ huffs a laugh against his skin and leans back, cradling Shane's face in his hands and examining his eyes. "Thank ya, Shane McMahon. Thank you for making my life so much more."

Shane turns a soft shade of pink and AJ chuckles fondly at still having the ability to make _Shane freakin' McMahon_ blush, but his laughter quickly dies away when Shane eases forward and kisses him, slow and deep and sudden enough to make AJ moan, gripping the back of Shane's neck to hold him in place. "I love you," Shane informs him simply once they ease back, examining each other.

"Love you too," AJ says back, and he's pretty sure he's the one blushing now. Dammit all.

Shane's grin turns gentle, loving. "I can't wait to spend all of 2021 with you," he says quietly.

AJ exhales. "Ye- yeah, that sounds incredible," he breathes out, leaning forward and resting his forehead against Shane's. "Really good."

His words have never been enough to describe how he feels about Shane, or much of anything, but he can tell by the gleam in Shane's eyes that he knows exactly what he means.

**Black Velvet**

"The Dream does _not_ do lazy well," Dream mumbles, picking at the blanket curled around his ankles. He's sitting cross legged on his couch, frowning at Aleister as he stands over him.

"I am quite aware of this," Aleister tells him dryly. "But you were ill not that long ago, and I demand you rest. I don't care what holiday it is or what you think we're going to do this evening, I am telling you now." He plants his hand on Dream's chest and pushes him backwards to rest more thoroughly into the cushions. "We are going to stay _right here_ and watch those ridiculous holiday specials online, and we are going to kiss at midnight, and we _are not going anywhere._ "

Dream huffs, but allows himself to be manhandled as Aleister settles in next to him, shaking the blanket out over them both. "Well, fine then," he mumbles with a roll of his eyes. "If you insist."

"I do." He sighs, brows furrowed in displeasure as he frowns. "What if it had been the other way around, Patrick, and I was the one sick? Hm? You'd be mothering me about as badly right now."

"Perhaps," Dream muses, tapping Aleister's side. "But I ended up fine."

"By some ridiculous stroke of luck," Aleister sighs, turning to look at him with a frown.

"That's me," Dream quips. "Lucky." He twists his fingers in Aleister's shirt and draws him down to sprawl out over Dream. "That's better," he mumbles, lips pressed against Aleister's neck.

"I thought you were sick and tired of this couch," Aleister teases him, pressing lazy kisses against his jaw and cheeks, his nose and eyes, forehead and temple, before diligently beginning all over again, pointedly avoiding his lips.

"Laying on it by myself, yes," Dream clarifies. "With you, never." His hands begin to explore Aleister's back, down his hips, teasing at his thighs, and Aleister exhales slowly, lashes fluttering slowly.

"Patrick," he grits out, wondering when, if ever, these sensations will stop feeling so heady and mind-melting. They've been together for _years,_ by now, but his body still reacts like it's the very first time whenever Dream touches him reverently, kisses him hungrily, blankets his body with his own. Aleister has so many thoughts, so many things he thinks Dream deserves to hear, but he bites his lip and holds them down, not wanting to ruin this evening with anything too heavy.

They're still laying there, lost in each other, unaware as the clock ticks slowly towards midnight. "Dream," Aleister sighs, breathing in and out slowly as he presses kisses to every inch of Dream's face, listening to the subtle changes in his breathing.

"Aleister," he murmurs, voice muffled against his jaw. " _Aleister.."_ He arches up a little as Aleister grazes his fingers against his sides, tugging lightly at his too-tight pants. "Ah, ah, Aleister, patience," he chides him with a slow grin, eyes glinting as he watches him still trying desperately not to just take his lips over with more, solid kisses. "Almost there," he promises him, tugging lightly at his hair. "Few more minutes. That's all, you can hold on that long, right?"

Aleister huffs, rolls his eyes and distracts himself with more, slow kisses along Dream's jaw, behind his ear. Listens to Dream sigh and gasp, tangling his fingers in Aleister's hair. Aleister's never been a big fan of hair pulling, but he allows it, too worked up and eager to really care. "Patrick," he breathes into his ear, and Dream shivers in response.

"Aleister," he sighs, time passing by too quickly and yet too slowly all at once.

Finally, _finally,_ midnight strikes and they face each other once more, gazes meeting, Aleister shifting to cradle Dream's face. "Happy New Year, my love," he whispers against his lips, and Dream exhales.

"Happy New Year, Stud," he responds with a grin when Aleister rolls his eyes.

This time, when Aleister's kisses turn hungry and needy, Dream gives in, responds in kind, the two of them kicking off the New Year in the most perfect of ways, flickering remnants of fireworks lighting up the night sky just visible through the drapes covering the window nearest them, lighting their skin aglow and adding to the beauty of the moment..

**Kingdom**

Mike sighs and digs a knuckle into his mouth, trying to block the loud yawn threatening to burst out of him. Noticing Matt's smile, he ducks his head. "Sorry," he mumbles. "Long day."

"Aw, babe, c'mon," Taven teases him. "You know you have nothing to apologize for." Even with three of them, two little kids are a lot, especially during a pandemic. Matt thinks Michael is adorable, either way. "You know I won't judge you if you don't make it til midnight."

"I will," Mike sighs. "I remember when I could party all night long, crash for a couple of hours, and get back to it again the next day."

Taven huffs a laugh, remembering those days all too well. "I can too," he counters, nudging at Mike's side with his bare foot. "I have to say I much prefer this version of you." When Mike looks at him, surprised, Matt smiles slowly, his teeth gleaming as he rests his chin on his knuckles and examines Mike. "Sleepy and a little rumpled after tending to our kids, back by my side in ROH, being all possessive and sweet. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Mike ducks his head, glances over at him through his lashes. "Aw babe, you always know just what to say to make me blush," he huffs, giving up on pretense and crawling over to him, nuzzling against his chest. "Will you at least wake me up for a kiss at midnight?"

"You know I will," Taven mumbles, gently carding his fingers through Mike's hair as they find the delicate balance needed to get comfortable, the couch not exactly sized right for two grown wrestlers to stretch out easily like this.

Even though he drifts in and out himself, Matt wakes up to fireworks and knows, gently nudging Mike after a quick check of his phone. "Midnight, babe," he mumbles into Mike's scalp. "Happy New Year."

Mike squints and groans, sitting up slowly to look out at the fireworks. He blinks out at the bright colors for a couple of moments before leaning in and kissing Matt warmly. "Happy New Year. I love you so much."

Matt grins. "I love you more."

"Not possible," Mike tells him and Matt realizes he doesn't want to debate this. Not right now. So he grips Mike by the back of the neck and draws him in for more, thorough kisses until they both settle in and doze off once more, peaceful looks on their faces.

**Ariya/Drew**

Ariya's rented out the penthouse for the weekend. It has ridiculous views, the city seemingly frozen in time below them, dark and quiet for the first time Drew can ever remember seeing it. It's eerie. It's amazing. He turns as Ariya joins him, glasses full of dark wine, and he takes one, sipping lazily from it. Wine isn't usually his taste, but Ariya has seemingly made it his mission to awaken his palate to a great many things. They smile at each other and Drew motions to the world below. "Kind of weird, huh?"

"It is," Ariya admits. "But I still like the view. Reminds you of what's waiting for us on the other side of this."

Drew smiles, a little, leaning in to cradle his jaw and kiss him. "That was almost romantic, Mr. Daivari."

Ariya smirks. Grips his waist and deepens the kiss, eyes looking even more piercing than usual in the lack of light behind them. Presses Drew into the glass and plants a hand, staring down at him. "You're a gorgeous man, Drew Gulak."

Drew shakes his head, aware that he's not- his hair is mussy, there's an Italian dressing stain on his shirt from the salad he'd ordered with his room service, and his jeans are fraying at the edges. He knows he looks a mess. "You don't need to lie," he says quietly.

"Absolutely stunning," Ariya whispers against his jaw once Drew stops protesting and Ariya finishes rolling his eyes. "I love you so much."

Drew eases back enough to examine the look on his face, smiling slightly. "I love you too," he mumbles, thinking about if there had been people wandering the city below, if they could see them now- Drew pressed into the window, Ariya all but pinning him there, leaning tight against him, their hearts racing as one, even after all of the time they've spent together. Ariya tangles his fingers in the short hairs at the base of his neck, kissing him slowly, and Drew groans softly, twisting his hand in Ariya's shirt and tugging him closer.

"Wish there were people around to see this little show," Ariya mumbles, casting a glance over Drew's shoulder into the darkness beyond, and Drew barks out a startled laugh.

"We really need to stop thinking alike," he whispers, tilting his face so Ariya can kiss him down his throat, causing him to shiver and gasp.

"Ah, where'd the fun be in that?" Ariya asks with a smirk as he slowly explores under Drew's shirt with teasing fingers, watching his eyes darken. "Anything else you wanna do to ring in the New Year?" he wonders after a few moments listening to Drew gasp and mumble.

"Absolutely not," Drew breathes, staring at him. "Don't even think of moving away from me right now."

Ariya laughs and leans in to kiss him again. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good, I plan on keeping you here well past midnight," Drew tells him and Ariya smirks.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise, Gulak," he says, tugging Drew forward by his shirt collar and kissing him solidly.

**Mickie/Alexa**

Mickie lingers, uncertain. Wary. She's not been around WWE for awhile, healing from a broken nose she'd gotten not long after returning from her _last_ injury and she thinks maybe between the pandemic and these injuries, the business is starting to truly leave her behind. But she's been invited in for Legend's night and she thinks maybe- _maybe,_ this will be her opportunity. But a week feels like a long time, and it's New Years Eve tomorrow and she wants to do something _now._ So she sits in her car and she stares out of the windshield and she _thinks_. A drive to Florida wouldn't take too long, honestly. A handful of hours.

Stumbling her way to the FIrefly Funhouse will take longer. Especially if the only entrance to it is in the halls of the Thunderdome, which has its own security. She taps her fingers against the steering wheel and closes her eyes. It doesn't matter, really. She needs to be close proximity wise, just to see. To try to _feel_ Alexa. So she squares her shoulders, glances once more at the suitcase in the backseat, and turns the key in the ignition, decision made.

Florida is sunny and warm and beautiful but Mickie barely has eyes for any of it, frowning down at her phone. She'd called her friends in the security crew, explaining quietly her dilemma and they'd promised to call her back if they could think of anything. That'd been a couple of hours ago and now she's back to square one- sneaking in. She stares back up at the arena, taking in the doors shut tightly, and closes her eyes. "Come on, there has to be a way- somehow..." One that preferably wouldn't end up with her arrested. That is _not_ the way she wants to ring in 2021.

She blinks, hard, when the doors suddenly open, a bright haired creature in pigtails and suspenders skipping out. She forgets to breathe for a minute- it's Alexa, as if Santa had come a week late just to answer her most desperate wish. She's out of the car within seconds, rushing to the girl. "Alexa!" she cries out, forgetting everything around her as she rushes towards her significant other.

Alexa pauses only a minute before lunging into Mickie's arms, clinging to her. "Mickie!" she giggles. "Did you come to play with me?" She squeezes her hand. "I have a playground, _he_ made it for me! Please come, he may even allow you to swing! He won't let anyone else near, but he knows I like you!"

It hurts to hear this simplistic, childish spiel from her girlfriend, almost as much as just being someone Alexa simply _likes._ "Ma- maybe," Mickie says slowly, gripping Alexa by the shoulders and peering into her face, searching for some sign- anything, that the love of her life is still in there. "Can we talk out here for awhile though?" She doesn't want to go inside and risk getting trapped in the Frefly Funhouse or the playground, or anything else. It feels like they're more even out here, like Alexa's strange abilities are less possible in the sun.

Alexa frowns but ultimately nods. "Alright," she says as chipper as ever. "Whatcha wanna talk about?"

"Us," Mickie suggests and Alexa's brows furrow for a second before smoothing out.

"Of course! I love talking about my dearest friends! What should we discuss?"

Mickie can't help the stab of pain once more at being designated as that, and she gingerly reaches out to grip Alexa's hand in hers. It's cold, unyielding to her fingers, and she feels strangely choked up at how closed off Alexa is to her. "How much I love and miss you," she suggests, and Alexa suddenly looks wide eyed and confused, her light blue eyes boring into Mickie's with an intensity she hasn't seen in quite awhile.

"Mickie," she breathes out, her fingers flexing within Mickie's own. "I... I..." She grits her teeth, shakes her head. "N- no, I-" She's struggling, visibly, as if fighting with her own consciousness, and Mickie holds on, uncertain what to say. "Mic- Mickie-"

"I love you so much," she continues, staring desperately at Alexa. Thinks maybe this will give her the chance to fight it, maybe- possibly- and suddenly it's like the sun's blinked out of existence or Mickie's gone blind, everything turns dark for a moment and when Mickie blinks, she can see again but Alexa is back- in her regular wrestling gear, what she had last been wearing before _he_ laid claim to her, and she's crying, so scared.

"Mi- Mickie!" she sobs, throwing her arms around her. "I love you too, I do! I'm so- I'm so sorry."

Mickie closes her eyes, rocks her back and forth. This unfortunately will probably only be temporary, but it's a moment. It's _time_ she's been begging and pleading for since all of this mess began, and she leans back, cradling Alexa's face in her hands. "I love you," she repeats, leaning in to lightly kiss Alexa. "I do."

"Wha- what's happening?" she asks, shivering a little in the late December brisk, and Mickie immediately whips off her own jacket and wraps it around Alexa's bare arms, cradling her close to her body to help warm her up faster.

"I wanted to try to break you out of _his_ control," she says, careful not to state Fiend's name, in case somehow that would just drag Alexa back under. "I didn't really expect it to work, not this easily, but I- I'm thankful it did."

"So am I," Alexa breathes. Leans her forehead against Mickie's. "I've missed you so much."

Mickie's laugh is wet and emotional. "You can't even imagine, sweetpea," she breathes, kissing Alexa slowly. "God... If I knew how much time we had, I... there are so many things I wanna tell you about, so many things I wanna do, but..." She closes her eyes, knowing to take advantage of every moment. "I've told you this before," she says. "I'm never giving up on you, ok? Even if it takes years for me to figure out a way, I _will_ get you out of his clutches. One way or another." She stares into Alexa's eyes with a soft smile. "And even if you manage to free yourself, which I believe you can, because you're strong and beautiful and no one can tame you fully, that's fine. I'll be here to pick up the pieces, come what may."

Alexa cries harder at this and suddenly leaps into Mickie's extended arms, Mickie exhaling an _oof_ as she instinctively curls her arms around her, cradling her entire body in her grip. "I just want to be held for a minute," she murmurs into Mickie's neck.

Mickie smiles, rocks her back and forth lightly. "I can do that," she says, kissing the side of Alexa's face, her nose, cheeks, eyes. They're so lost in the moment that nothing else matters, then Mickie giggles a little. "It's New Years Eve, Alexa," she whispers into Alexa's ear. "It's going to be 2021 in a few hours."

Alexa hums, not really interested in the passage of time after the blurs that are her last few months, but she leans back to smile at Mickie. "I wish we could have a midnight kiss," she says softly.

"I hope so too," Mickie tells her, turning to walk them back to her car. It's warmer there, at least, and gets them out of the wind. She forgoes the front, wanting no space between them, and settles Alexa into the backseat before joining her. Alexa immediately curls up against her and Mickie sighs, wrapping her arms around her.

Mickie's not sure when she falls asleep, exactly, but the next thing she knows, it's pitch dark outside and fireworks are bursting in the sky overhead. Checking her phone, she finds it's midnight and she turns to find Alexa staring at the same blasts of blues and greens and golds that she is. "Happy New Year," she says softly, cradling Alexa's face in her arms and leaning in to kiss her, gently, slowly.

"Happy New Year," she echoes, kissing her back, fingers trembling against Mickie's skin.

The fireworks end and Mickie blinks up at the last of the smoke drifting in the night's sky, turning to say something to Alexa when she stops short. She's alone in the backseat now. Alexa is gone, as if she was never there to begin with.

Mickie stares at the empty space next to her for a long, aching moment before burying her face in her hands and letting out a shuddering sigh.

**Tamina/Lana**

"I hate this," Lana says suddenly, Tamina looking up at her as she carefully flicks a page in her book.

"Come again?" she asks, putting a marker in to not lose her place and setting the book aside to give Lana her full attention. Another way she's been proving lately just how guilty she is over what Nia's done to her the last few months, no matter what Tamina said or threatened her with.

"I hate this," she says more stubbornly, waving a hand at herself. The casts cluttering her leg, her arm. Everything in between. "I... wanted these holidays to be special, and instead you're stuck at home tending to me while I try to recover. It's dumb."

Tamina gives it a second, examining Lana quietly, before easing forward, resting a hand on Lana's knee. "For one thing, it _is_ special because instead of traveling all over the place like crazy and whatever else, we get to spend our holidays at home, relaxing and just enjoying each other's company. For another, it's not like you asked for this. It's just my cousin being the usual temperamental jerk that I grew up with. You have no reason to feel guilty about this. I see nothing dumb here." Her touch gentles, glides up to rest on Lana's good hand. "I like quiet evenings spent at home with you. I just wish it was under better circumstances."

Lana looks close to tears as she grips Tamina's hand and draws it up to her lips, kissing her knuckles. "I like that too," she shares, staring intently at Tamina. "You know, I can't really move much right now, not too quickly, so it might be nice if you found your own way over here."

Tamina chuckles a little, nodding. She's careful as she slides up over Lana's body, not roughing up either cast, before hovering over her, humming lightly before leaning in for a kiss. She shifts Lana over, just slightly, before sinking down next to her, wrapping her arm around her and holding her close. "Nice?"

"Perfect," Lana sighs, burying her face in the other woman's shoulder, breathing in her warm, spicy scent. "Thank you, Tamina."

"You're welcome. Now stop apologizing," Tamina chides her, kissing her again. They lay contently for awhile, thinking about the year gone, the year to come, and then Tamina hisses out a breath suddenly.

"What is it?" Lana asks worriedly, thinking maybe Tamina's already tired of their cuddle session.

"I left my book over there," she huffs, reaching uselessly over towards it.

Lana pauses for a second, before giggling helplessly. "Aw, poor Tamina," she teases, drawing her in by a gentle hand on her jaw. Kissing her slowly, she teases, "Whatever will you do with no book to entertain you for the next couple of hours? Hmm-"

Her thought barely gets finished when Tamina is pressed into her, kissing and touching like she knows Lana likes. Scraping her teeth gently down her jaw, Tamina watches her breathe in deeply, fingers unclenching from around the couch cushions. "Happy New Year," she whispers as Tamina smiles down her.

"Happy New Year to you as well," Lana murmurs, leaning in to kiss her once more, beginning the process all over again.

**Aiden/Rusev**

"So, any big plans for tonight?" Aiden teases Rusev as he leans back on the couch and examines him with a small smile.

Rusev quirks an eyebrow at him, smirking back. "No, not really," he hedges. "Unless you want to consider ringing in the New Year with my best friend as big plans."

"Ah," Aiden says. "Well, whoever it is sounds like a very lucky person."

Rusev huffs lightly. "Yes, well, I do my best to make them feel like they are." He drops down next to Aiden and nudges him until he shifts, settling more comfortably against Rusev's side. "What are your plans tonight?"

"Oh, you know," Aiden says. "Maybe streaming, maybe watching a movie. Watching fireworks with my best friend. Maybe sharing a kiss at midnight."

Rusev hums. "Well, that last part sounds interesting."

Aiden chuckles. "It does, doesn't it?" He folds his legs under him and shifts forward to grab his controller, flicking through some menus. "Wanna play something with me?"

"Oh I dunno," Rusev hedges, accent sharpening as he watches him. "We both get so competitive, it'd be unfortunate to ring in the new year frustrated with each other."

"Could find a co-op game," Aiden says. "We always are at our best when we're working together after all."

Rusev weighs this for a few moments, then grips Aiden's jaw and angles his face towards him. "That's true enough," he concedes, searching Aiden's eyes.

"Co-op it is then," Aiden says softly, forgetting about the game and everything else going on around him as the controller slips slowly from his fingers.

Neither of them react to the sharp sound of the controller hitting the table and bouncing onto the floor, Aiden sighing into Rusev's mouth as he kisses him, the both of them leaning closer towards each other. "This year is going to be so much better than last," Rusev mumbles.

"Damn straight," Aiden says determinedly, stroking his fingers down his back. "We're gonna make sure of it."

Rusev lightly nudges at Aiden's jaw with his knuckles, his eyes soft with fondness. "Hell yes. Co-op in all matters."

Aiden grins, his gaze soft.

**SCU**

They had survived another year. SCU might end at any time, but Kazarian isn't too concerned about it, choosing instead to enjoy each day as it comes. If they've learned anything, it's not to take time for granted. He rests his head back against the couch and exhales as Chris and Sky talk lowly about their plans. "Maybe we should go have some appletinis on the beach while we watch the fireworks," Kaz suggests after a few moments, listening as both men fall quiet and look over at him. "I don't really feel like doing a lot tonight."

Chris and Sky exchange glances again before Chris says, "Yeah, I think I feel the same way. Some good appletinis and even better company sounds like a great way to ring in the New Year to me."

Kaz pulls himself up and heads for the kitchen. "I'll find the shaker then," he mumbles, already rooting through cupboards and drawers to find what's needed to make the drinks for them.

Chris approaches him after a few minutes, Sky staying in the living room to look at something on his phone, and Kaz finds that he's relieved to have a few quiet moments by themselves. "Are you ok?" he asks, leaning close to Kaz and glancing into the cupboards as well.

"I think so," Kaz says after a bit of quiet pondering. "Just tired, I guess. It's not been a great couple of weeks."

Chris' hand on his back is warm, comforting, and Kaz exhales, leaning back into his touch. "I know, Frankie. And it's ok if you don't have much to say, just... I don't think any of us should be spending the holiday alone right now, you know? So even if we just sit in silence for awhile, it'll do. You know what I mean?"

"I do," Kaz says softly. "I'll do my best to not ruin it for everyone."

"You won't," Chris tells him. "We're all struggling. I'd just rather do it with you guys than by myself."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Kaz sighs. "Well, let's go get these drinks together before the fireworks start without us."

Daniels smiles at him. "Yeah, let's go."

Later, the three of them sit on the beach, sipping appletinis lazily, toes in the sand, watching the fireworks light up the night sky, a new year dawning before them, heavy in uncertainty but still vaguely exciting like a fresh start nonetheless. "Happy New Year, guys," Kaz tells them, lips twitching when Sky echoes his wish quietly but then Daniels replies enthusiastically and Kaz smiles truly, the fireworks reflecting in the soft shine of his eyes.

**Ivelisse/Havoc/Angelico**

Riding her motorcycle always makes Ivelisse feel alive. Pure. Complete. Looking over her should to find Angelico and Son of Havoc by her side, as they have been since they'd taken their leave of the Temple, only supplements this sensation. She pushes down harder on the gas and zips forward ahead of them, only barely hearing Angelico's scandalized yell and she throws her head back, laughing uproariously as he and Havoc struggle to keep up with her, as always one step behind.

She slows at the next rest stop, however, hair streaming over her shoulders as she takes her helmet off and turns to meet them, lips tugging up into a fierce smirk as they glower at her. "Happy New Year," she says, ignoring the looks on their faces as she grabs them and tugs them to her sides, this side of rough as she buries her hands in Angelico's hair and kisses him deeply, taking advantage of his gasp as she tastes him hungrily. Repeats the action to Havoc, eyes glinting in the lights overhead as he leans into her.

"Another year," Angelico says. "Think we'll still be here in 2022?"

"Don't see why not," Havoc grumbles. "We never can seem to escape this one for too long." He nudges Ivelisse and she sneers up at him.

"Don't hear you complaining," she says, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not," he sighs. "Just statement of fact. Even if one of us leaves, the other two always drag them back one way or another."

She smirks at him and nods. "Damn straight."

**Dunne/Ricochet**

"I'm happy you're home," Ricochet says apropos of nothing. "Have I said that yet?"

Pete looks up from the carry out he'd ordered for their meal and licks over the prongs of his fork, quirking an eyebrow when Ricochet seems intrigued by the action. "Yes, I believe you have, a few times."

"Hm," Ricochet sighs, smiling. "Well, one more time didn't seem like it'd hurt."

Ricochet's been through a lot this year, between everything with Retribution, and Pete returning with a fresh anger, content to tear his way through anyone and everyone on NXT to get what he feels he's owed, no matter the cost. So Pete decides to be giving here. "I'm happy to be home as well," he says quietly, pushing around the mixed vegetables on his plate. "Life is boring without you by my side."

Ricochet flushes in the faint light. "Possibly the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."

Pete shoots him a look, then continues to chew over the mashed bean concoction that's supposed to resemble meat. A treat for the holiday. "Yes, well," he says, nothing more planned to say than that, but despising the silence. "Do you want to do anything tonight?"

Ricochet stares at him for a moment, pausing to sip from his glass of water before answering. "No," he says honestly. Waits until Pete looks up at him to continue speaking, a small smile on his lips. "A night in, alone with you, sounds pretty damn perfect right now."

Pete pauses, then shrugs. "Consider it done, then." When Ricochet stands up with no warning, Pete keeps his eye on him, tensing up briefly when Ricochet abruptly kisses him, fingers stroking through his hair until he relaxes.

"Thank you," he whispers against his lips, the meaning behind those simple words so vast that it makes Pete's head spin a little.

Unable to think of a proper, verbal response, he leans in and kisses him back, realizing anew just how badly he really had missed Ricochet the months he'd been in England.

**Elias/Jeff**

Elias sits on the patio, strumming lowly on his favorite guitar as he watches the fireworks slowly fade away, the New Year already ticking past. He hums and rubs absently at his chest, remembering the pain of waking up after his hit'n'run. How it'd felt to realize that Jeff Hardy was the culprit. His repeated visits while Elias healed leading into some sort of a relationship between them that Elias used to get revenge once he was cleared to wrestle again. Just to get electrocuted and have it all fall apart even further.

He closes his eyes and tries to shake the memories away, giving himself in to the music once more. He's still sitting there, strumming sleepily, when something starts to tug at the guitar. "No," he mumbles. "Stop."

"You're falling asleep, man," Jeff tells him. "Let me have this." He gets a better grip and Elias can't hold onto the guitar again, Jeff setting it gently off to the side. "C'mon, let's get you to bed."

Things are still rough between them, but they had been lonely, had reached out, had come back together this night, kisses rough and touch nowhere near gentle like it used to be, but they'd needed something that only the other could provide, so here they are. Elias squints up at him, finding it hard to keep his eyes open, and it eats at him to allow this, but he does. Grips Jeff's hand and lets him tug him to his feet, leading him into the apartment, to the bed they used to share when Elias was still healing and needed help from _someone._

He's decided he'll never have full answers about what happened the night he'd been hit by the car, knows deep in his gut it was Jeff, but there's only so much he can do about it, especially when his body betrays him by yearning for the reckless fool who's remained by his side since he woke up in the hospital, through his anger and blame, and everything in between. He sighs and lays down, feeling more than seeing as Jeff drags the blankets up over him, tucking him in like he's some child.

His exhausted bones sink into the mattress even more as a soft kiss is pressed against his lips. "G'night, Elias." A pause, followed by a sigh. "Happy New Year."

His fingers flex against the sheets and he thinks about spending the rest of the year like this, wrapped up in Jeff Hardy, pingponging between anger and need.

His last thought before sleep claims him thoroughly is that there may be worse ways to spend a year.

**Mendoza/Escobar**

"You've noticed, right?" Joaquin asks idly one night.

Raul looks up with a frown and shrugs. "What?" he asks, not sure what Joaquin might be thinking about now, not really pleased with the smug look on his tag partner's face.

"Santos, he... he's quite fond of you," Joaquin finally offers, brows lifting in such a suggestive fashion that Raul feels his throat go painfully dry.

"I'm not sure what you mean," he says, trying to swallow with some difficulty.

"Sure ya do," Joaquin says, waving his hand dismissively. "Santos _likes_ you."

"Of course he does," Raul mumbles. "We've been working together like a year by now. He likes both of us."

"But," Joaquin persists, his voice rising in volume and insistence. "He _stares_ at you, he beams at you like he's so proud and full of adoration for you." He waits for Raul's reaction and, when he freezes and stares down at his hands, Joaquin smirks. "He never pays that kind of attention to me, lemme tell you."

"Of course he does," Raul protests, looking up with a frown at Joaquin. "Zema, trust me-"

"Come on, man, we've worked together long enough that you don't need to try to prove your point by calling me my former name," Joaquin tells him, sighing. "We're past that. Trust _me,_ man. I have eyes. I think we need to give him a little push now to accept it all. What do you say?"

"What kind of push?" Raul asks through numb lips, not liking this at all. Even less so when Joaquin grins over at him, eyes gleaming.

Santos had chose to have a small get together on New Years Eve, just the three of them. Between the pandemic, and they're not exactly being the most popular people backstage, it had just felt better to be three of them, enjoying a quiet celebration of Escobar still being champion and the up-coming Dusty Cup and how they'll fully control this business and its different divisions shortly.

Joaquin has excused himself to have a quick conversation on the phone with his significant other, leaving Raul and Santos alone while Santos fiddles with his cigars, and Raul watches the clock. It's almost midnight, and he feels shaky, his lips dry, mouth struggling just to form words. "Ah, um, Santos," he says quietly, immediately losing his nerve when Joaquin joins them, a grin on his face.

"What'd I miss?" he wonders.

"Nothing," Santos tells him, quirking an eyebrow at Raul, who quietly shakes his head. Taking it at face value, Escobar crosses the room to look out the floor to ceiling windows. "The fireworks should begin shortly," he says, checking his watch.

Raul realizes it's mere minutes from midnight and he swallows as Joaquin walks over to join their boss, standing uncomfortably close to him. Raul wants to elbow in, command him to back off, but that would be suspicious, and he doesn't want his boss to know how he feels- how much worse Joaquin has made it lately. _He looks at me no differently,_ he insists to himself, trudging over to join them.

They're still standing there, watching and waiting when the clock goes off behind them, chiming to mark the hour. The new day. The new year. Santos taps his cigar against his knuckle and shakes his head, turning to look at the two men standing behind him. "Ay, I have no true considerations for traditions," he says. "But there is one..." He hums. Eyes Joaquin for a split second before turning his heated gaze, his full attention onto Raul. "I like the sounds of it, always have." His teeth flash as he grins self-confidently and motions to Raul to approach.

Raul swallows and steps closer, lips parting in shock when Escobar presses his free hand to his jaw. "Santos?"

"Would you mind ringing in the New Year, like this?" he asks, almost hesitantly. "With me?"

It takes a few moments for realization to dawn and Raul can almost feel Joaquin rolling his eyes from behind them, but then he whispers. "Oh. Yes? I- I would."

When Santos smiles at him and leans in, pressing a slow, soft, sweet kiss to his lips, _finally_ Raul understands what Joaquin had meant. When he leans in, desperate to hold onto this moment, let the kiss linger for as long as it can, he only vaguely hears Joaquin take his leave. Lifts his arms and buries his fingers in Santos' hair. They kiss, slow and leisurely, until the fireworks fade away and Raul slowly eases back, searching his eyes. "Happy New Year," he breathes.

Santos beams back at him. "Happy New Year," he echoes, tugging Raul closer and wrapping his arms around him, the two of them staring out of the window at the last wisps of fireworks fading away into nothing in the sky overhead.

They had missed the entire display, but neither can find it in them to really mind.


End file.
